


The Crew That Fights Together, Stay Together

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asshole!Burnie, Barkeep!Ray, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, GTA!AU, Getting Together, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Transphobia, Violence, cop!Burnie, trans!Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's happy with his bar. It's a good business to be running in Los Santos, and it's especially good to have the protection of the Gents. Cops are assholes, and people get shot frequently, but at least he has something to call his own!!</p><p>((O man. This is the first fic I've posted since 2014... Who knows but I'll try to update weekly at least.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ray didn't see who threw the first punch, but he sure heard the grunt of surprise of the first guy to hit the floor. The smaller, less bulky guy had been left standing over his opponent, shaking his fist in pain and making high pitched squawks. As the other man pulled himself up and straightened his glasses, the whole bar had turned to face the commotion. The nearly inaudible sound of the shitty jukebox in the corner filtered through stunned silence.

Ray swore loudly as the beefier man picked up a glass bottle. He reached under the counter, pulling out his shotgun and shot a blank at the floor. Everyone looked at the barkeep in stunned silence, and the man put his glass back down. "Alright. Sit the fuck down everyone."

As his bar regained its previous quiet hum, the two men who had nearly started a brawl seemed to both want to talk to him. Goddamn he hated drunks.

"Soo," the smaller man smiled, something that could only be described as a shit-eating grin, "nice establishment you've got here." Despite nearly slurring enough to make his accent unreadable, Ray could make out that the guy was English.

"Do I know you?" Ray asked tiredly, used to being hit on for cheaper drinks (but maybe this guy was trying to make up for the fact that he and his friend, not five minutes ago, nearly started a bar fight).

"Aw shit, Gavvers. Don't you have any fucking clue?" The other man hit him on the shoulder lightly. "This guy doesn't want to be hit on at work. Jesus." He shook his head, before turning to Ray. "Sorry, man. For him," he pointed his thumb at Gavin, "and for the near fight."

Ray spluttered. "Near fight? Your friend here made you hit the floor, and then you reached for a fucking glass. Bar fights attract cops, and my patrons don't need that shit on their nights off." He shook his head forcefully. "Even if I hadn't stepped in, you both attracted the attention of the Gents, and they don't let that shit slide in my bar."

As he moved to serve a tattooed lady who was motioning for still more shots, Ray looked back at the duo. To their benefit, they looked at least a bit chastised for the situation they caused, but Ray had spent a lot of time making this bar well known as a safe, mostly legal place to hang out when the gangs of Los Santos weren't terrorising people. That kind of notoriety had taken years to build up, and he didn't want to be responsible for damage control.

In the time that he had let his mind wander, the door had swung open. The soft tinkle of the door chime had gone unnoticed over the sound of the room but as a hush fell, Ray realised what had happened. Two cops stood in the doorway, and a third was making his way towards him.

"Fuck. Hi Officer Burns!" Ray called weakly. "Why did you decide to drop by?"

The cop narrowed his eyes underneath his stupid fucking aviators, and Ray felt a stir of anger in his gut. "Someone reported gunshots, Ray. We thought we'd drop by to check if everyone was obeying the laws of our good city. Anyway, what else are friends for if not for looking out for each other."

"Well, Burnie. As you can see, there aren't any dead or injured people in my bar, so no laws have been broken." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Still, I haven't done my job until I've checked up on everyone, isn't that right!" He smiled thinly, before turning his back to Ray. "Anyway, I had to drop by since I heard the news about the Gents! Did you know that your bar has the protection of their gang, Ray? Especially, the Vagabond seems to have a soft spot for your fag-"

Ray snarled, launching himself over the bar at the cop. One hand moved to the cops throat, and the other drew a knife (one of many scattered around his person). "WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, BURNS!"

The two cops Burn had brought as backup both froze in the doorway, unsure how the power had shifted so quickly. As people began streaming for the door, they fought the flow of bodies while radioing for more men.

All the while, Ray grappled with Burnie. His knife hadn't left more than a few thin scratches on the cop but his free hand had broken the guy's nose. He finally managed to get a hold on the man’s arm, wrenching it violently until he screamed.

Ray felt himself get pulled back and thrashed in his grip. He felt his elbow connect with a face. "Fuck, Ray. Ow!" Jack's voice cut through the haze of his rage. He let himself be dragged away by the slightly taller woman, hoping that no one would comment on the tears in his eyes.

"Ray?" Ryan was hesitant, softly resting his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Ray turned his face into Ryan's leather jacket, letting himself sob loudly as people moved around him. "If you're worried about the bar, you can just stay with us for a while. The cops won't know where you are."

Ray wiped his eyes and fixed his glasses so they sat on his face properly. "I fucking hate him for saying that. I just fucking hate him." He took a few steps back towards the barely conscious cop, spitting on him before going behind the bar into his living quarters. He grabbed his 'go bag' (for emergencies) and returned to where the Gents were waiting for him. He grabbed his handgun and shoved it into the waistband of his pants, looking at the three people in front of him.

Geoff stood with his arms crossed, covered in tattoos. Next to him was Jack in her stupid Hawaiian t-shirt, holding a semi-automatic that she seemed to have made appear out of thin air. The last Gent, Ryan, stood with his Vagabond mask on, his leathers hiding his identity.

"Top!"

Ray turned to see that the two young guys who started all this shit in the first place were still sitting at his fucking bar.

"You all look like you're going to start shit." The Brit had on his shit-eating grin again, and the other guy wasn't much better. "Can we come?"

"Fucking-" Ray sighed. Maybe they'd make a good distraction (or sacrifices) for their getaway. "Sure, fine."


	2. If You Don't Like The Way I Drive, Get Off The Sidewalk

Ray slid into shotgun in Geoff's car, sitting his bag at his feet and watching everyone scramble around them. The two young guys from the bar had both tumbled into their own vehicle, and Ray wondered absentmindedly if they were even sober enough to start the car. The red-headed guy in the glasses had seemed to stop staggering quite so much as compared to his British friend, and it was him who sat behind the wheel.

Geoff turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life. The engine, like the chassis around it, had been modified to suit the tastes of one of the bigger gangs of Los Santos. This meant tank-proof everything, enough power to outrun a fucking aeroplane, and the softest interior money could buy. The car hummed underneath them before becoming a loud thrum as Geoff eased on the gas.

The cops who had been swept out the door had already radioed help in a while back, and all six men (Ray assumed; there was no way to tell how aware the two in the other car were of the events unfolding around them) knew that soon the full force of the LSPD would be trying to hunt them down.

As if to remind them that yes, this was a getaway, police sirens wailed in the distance, quickly approaching. Ryan and Jack finally slid into the back seat- Jack still holding her gun, and Ryan holding a bag full of what Ray assumed was contraband that the Gents had kept stashed in his bar. Geoff took their arrival as signal to floor it, yelling excitedly as the car fishtailed out of its parking space.

The police sirens picked up intensity as Geoff sped away, and the cops Burnie had brought as backup finally made an appearance. Their car pulled out from the throng of people still surrounding the bar, and finally began to chase them down.

Geoff hollered again, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. He swerved slightly, and there was a noise of protest from Ryan as the car narrowly avoided going onto the pavement. Geoff looked a sorry for his reckless driving for all of about 3 seconds before the sound of the police car behind them reached his ears.

"... PULL OVER! WE WILL SHOOT IF YOU CONTINUE TO ATTEMPT TO EVADE POLICE..." The crackly speaker system must have caused something to snap in Geoff's brain because no sooner than Ray had heard the words, Geoff's face had regained its manic quality.

Ryan lent forward, seemingly used to Geoff's driving. "So, would you like us to drop you off at a safe house, or would you rather just stay with us until we can get something sorted out."

"I wouldn't mind staying with all the Gents for a while. It might make up for the fact that for some reason you've been living at my bar for the last few months." Ray smirked, but he felt off knowing his bar wouldn't be home again, unless someone killed Burns. That man held a grudge. "I don't suppose anyone will be heading back there for a while. Burns'll probably get it shut down."

Jack sighed from the backseat. "It was such a nice bar, too. The shitty jukebox was really growing on me."

Ray grinned, seeing straight through her humor. "You don't have to be nice to my shitty bar, Jackie. I know that it was a shithole." His smile lessened. "It was just my shithole. Semi-legal and everything."

When the first shots rang out, Geoff was still swerving violently, taking corners far too quickly, and having way too much fun with making the occupants of his car jerk around. Ray would later swear that the older man giggled as the car was shot from the lone police car in pursuit.

Jack shifted the gun in her grip, and Ray reached into the waistband of his jeans to free his own handgun. He fished around in his bag for the clips of ammo he kept there, laying them out on the floor of the car as neatly as he could while Geoff was driving. He hoped he would at least be able to keep a few clips as backups until he could get more, but if more police showed up he knew he wouldn't hesitate to use up what little he had. Just as started rolling down his windows, a very loud horn pierced the sound of gunshots. The tune sounded suspiciously like "La Cucaracha". Ray peered out to see that another car had pulled nearly level with the police behind them. The two young guys had managed to catch up with them, god knows how.

"These kids are nearly as crazy as us!" Geoff cackled. "If they live, I might give 'em jobs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate school, basically. Here's a shitty update that isn't finished, but hey! At least it's an update.


End file.
